


From First to Last

by GenderFluidIntake



Category: Black Lagoon
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, Organized Crime, Police Brutality, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-01 20:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10929930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenderFluidIntake/pseuds/GenderFluidIntake
Summary: Before Lagoon, before Roanapur, there was a girl. A girl born in the wrong place to the wrong people. There was no chance for a normal life for her, only a life of pain and despair. Given this option, it was only a matter of time before she broke free.This is the story of the girl, and the woman that emerged when that girl was destroyed.





	1. We Once Were (Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, I and many other fans of this show were very dissatisfied with their decision to make Revy into a rape victim, it felt unnecessary and uninspired when they could have explored the circumstances that create someone like her. Going forward with this story, I will not be writing her as a rape victim, but rather a victim of tragedy and horrendous conditions. She will face trauma, and she will face horror, but I have no interest in forcing this character be subjected to sexual violence.  
> This story will be exploring the character of Revy from her childhood in Manhattan, to the events of the show, and possibly beyond. Assuming I make it that far, this will have Revy/Rock.  
> Assuming Black Lagoon takes place in 1997, Revy would have been born in 1972, thus, when this story begins, the year will be 1985, making Revy 13.  
> Also at first, I will be referring to her as either Rebecca or Becca, I feel like Revy is something that she would have chosen or she would have been called when she was deeper in the underground.

_Another shitty night_. She thought to herself, smoke forcing its way out of her lungs and drifting into the frigid Manhattan air. She breathed in another lungful of nicotine, hissing as her jaw shifts. Her cheek is swollen, her eye already puffing up, and her head is throbbing like someone’s inside of it swinging a sledgehammer. And she knows things will only feel worse tomorrow.

_Fucking drunken asshole, I wish he’d just fucking die already._

“Rebecca?” A voice almost whispered from beside her.

“Fuck!” Becca spun in place so fast that her vision almost went white, and her fist was pulled back before she could see who was in front of her. Once she saw, she kept her fist up. “What the fuck do you want Chris?”

Chris, a nervous, bespectacled boy of fifteen shrunk back at the sight of her fist, he’d been hit by her before, he certainly wasn’t going to invite it on himself. She might not look like much, just a five foot, thirteen-year-old Chinese girl, but he’d seen her kick the shit out of enough people to know that she was very much a threat if she wanted to be. “I… I heard you come out and I wanted to check on you. _¿Estás bien?_ Are… are you alright?”

Becca dropped her fist to her side and took a drag on her cigarette. “Do I fucking look alright Chris?” She closed her eyes to keep her tears at bay, when she opened them again she was composed again.

“Uhh… No. No, you don’t look alright Becca.” He at least had the common sense to look apologetic.

“Then why did you ask? Fucking retard.” She threw down her cigarette and stomped on it angrily, “And don’t fucking sneak up on me again alright? I swear I’ll kill you!” She surged forward and before he could jump back his collar was in the firm grip of her fists. Her face was a breath away from his when she spoke in a low growl, “Do you hear me? I’m not in the fucking mood for it!” And just like that, she shoved him away.

Chris fell against the wall and didn’t try to get up, he knew why she was doing this. She needed to vent, and he couldn’t blame her. “I… I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

She scoffed and turned away from him. “Don’t be sorry, fucking listen when I tell you something.”

Chris looked at the ground and clenched his teeth, “That’s not what I meant.”

Becca sighed and slip down the wall to sit next to him, “Yeah…”

“How bad was it?” Right after the words left his mouth he knew it was a stupid question. He shut his eyes and thumped the back of his head against the wall.

Becca, for her part, managed a small laugh, whether of humor or disbelief he couldn’t tell. “Wow, you’re just asking all the genius questions today aren’t you? I thought you still went to school.”

Chris looked at her, “I do, yeah.”

She chuckled, “Oh yeah? Where? Is it the one with the shorter bus?”

He snorted, “Fuck you.”

She clapped him on the back and laughed with forced humor, “Oooo look at you!” She went to pull another cigarette out of her pack, then shoved it towards him, “Here, take one.” He gave a thought towards refusing, but one look at her and he could tell that she really _wanted_ him to take one, so tamping down on his own sense of disgust at the habit he drew one out of the pack.

“Wow,” she stated as she lit hers and then his, “I must look _really_ bad then.” She drew the smoke into her lungs and relaxed back along the wall, closing her eyes in a small moment of bliss.

He didn’t want to know, in fact he’d be content with never hearing about this again, but it didn’t matter if he didn’t want to know, he _needed_ to know, even if what he heard kept him up at night seething with rage and sorrow in equal amounts. “So, what did he do this time?”

When she replied, it was dispassionate, devoid of her usual fire, like she was just reviewing what the weather was like that day. “He lost his pay check at Lou’s today, figured he’d come back and work the frustration out on me, like it’s my fault the fuckhead doesn’t know jackshit about poker. He just punched me though, at least he didn’t kick me this time.”

Chris grimaced, “Christ…”

“But hey,” She sniffled, “Just the way it goes, right?” He hesitated before placing a hand on her shoulder, she stiffened and seemed a second away from punching back, but soon her shoulders sagged with resignation. She tucked her face into the crook of her arm, and it wasn’t very long until she was shaking with silent sobs. All Chris could do was rub her shoulder, letting her know that she wasn’t alone, that she still had a friend. It wasn’t enough.

“I’m going to kill him one day.” Her tone wasn’t angry, or sad, or even hysterical. Her voice was steady as a brain surgeon’s hands. Chris stilled, he knew this tone. He knew Becca well, he knew when something was said in anger, when something was made up from bravado, when she was exaggerating to make a point. This wasn’t any of those. This was steel, this was cold flame, this was distilled, hundred and ten proof hatred. This was the tone that guaranteed whatever she said would come true, no matter how bad or how damaging it was to her. This was the voice that promised to break little Richie Dwyer’s face, the voice that was met with laughter, the voice that belonged to the girl who took five of his teeth and shattered his nose for life, even though she broke her hand in the process. Now this voice was promising death, and he was terrified. Not for her father, even as much as he found himself squeamish at the idea of murder, he knew that he would deserve it. No, he was terrified at what lengths that Becca would go to fulfill her promise.

“Becca…”, but what could he say? Things will look up? The nights darkest before the dawn? That things _could be worse_? All of that was bullshit and he wouldn’t be able to puke those words up even if his life depended on it. Nothing would make this situation better. He couldn’t talk her out of it, even if he wanted to. Hell, part of him wanted to kill the old bastard himself, and he didn’t have to live with it, day by day, night by night, living with some cretinous fuck who handed out ass beatings instead of meals, who’s idea of a birthday present was a kick in the ass out the door to get him more beer. Whose Christmas greeting consisted of a punch in the gut and a bottle across the cheek. The world would be a better place without him in it, much as it pained him to think. But him dying would mean that Chris lost Becca, and he never wanted that. All he could do was try and keep her from the brink, but she already had one foot dangling over oblivion.

Chris was frightened, petrified, but most of all he was furious. Furious at Becca’s father, furious at a world that would let this sort of thing happen, he was furious at himself. Furious that he couldn’t do anything to help her, that he was powerless to do anything except find her in the aftermath and try to bring her back down to earth. His stream of thought was interrupted when she stood up and out of his grip.

“C’mon,” she said, already starting to walk away, “We’re going to Frank’s.” He stood, and looked to his watch.

“Going to Frank’s? Becca it’s eleven at night.”

She looked back at him miserably, “Chris, I _need_ to go to Frank’s, are you coming or not?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Chris stood there for a second, thinking of his options. The course was clear, he kicked at the ground, “ _Mierda_ , fine.”

 

* * *

 

 Salvatore Mazza was a low-level Mancini family associate and owner of the local boxing gym. Sal made a living running fixed fights and ran a small protection racket, sometimes using his fighters as muscle. His son Frank often hung around the back rooms of his father’s businesses, content to lay around and get high all day, but this wasn’t to say that he was idle while he did this. Frank Mazza was often seen with Seth Kelly, known to many in the neighborhood as a dealer, and had a reputation of being able to get whatever a customer wanted. As such, he was Mott Street’s primary source for many illicit substances. But if you wanted to talk to Seth, you had to talk to Frank first.

“Becca? Come on wait up!” Chris was struggling to keep pace with her, he wasn’t dressed for snow and would still have had a hard time if he was. “Becca!” He reached out and grabbed her wrist, she shook him off angrily and turned.

“What? What is it Chris? What is so important that you won’t shut the fuck up about it?” The stormy look on her face would have scared most people, Chris would be the first to admit how unfortunate it was that he was like most people. He shook his head and looked her in the eye.

“Come on, we don’t need to go to Frank’s, let’s just head back.” He put his hand on his shoulder, “Please?”

She threw his hand off, “I gave you the choice, you came with. I’m going, if you don’t want to you can fuck off back home yourself!” She didn’t let him reply before she stormed off in the other direction. Much as Chris would like to be home out of the cold, he couldn’t leave her alone, not now. Sighing, he grit his teeth and started after her again. He wouldn’t ask her to come back again tonight though, otherwise he was liable to lose a tooth, best friend or no.

When they arrived at the gym Becca threw open the back door so violently that Chris was amazed Frank didn’t shoot her. Frank did in fact have one hand on the Smith & Wesson tucked in his waistband, but let it go once he saw who it was. “Becca…” he started to admonish her when he saw the state of her face, “Oh fuck me what happened to you?”

Becca wasn’t in the mood to explain again tonight. “Is Seth here?”

Frank shook his head to himself, “Look, Becca…”

Her hand slammed on the counter, “Goddammit is Seth here or not?”

Frank straightened, “Fine, fuck! He’s in the back there alright?” She stomped her way into the back room without another word. Chris came stumbling into the room right as she left.

“Chris, what the fuck?” Frank walked over, pointing at the back room, “The fuck happened to her?”

Chris was still bent over double, but still managed to seem appropriately pissed off, “What do you _think_ happened to her?”

Frank dragged his hand through his hair and sighed, “Shit. When is someone gonna kill that old prick?”

Chris stood and looked at him, “Way she was talking tonight, I think it might be soon.”

Frank’s eyes widened, “You shittin’ me?”

Chris shook his head, “She was serious Frank, just like before Richie.”

Frank swore, “Shit, you know that kid’s still fuckin' hideous after that? We’ve gotta do something, we can’t just let her kill the asshole.”

Chris nodded, “I know.”

“She’s fuckin’ thirteen! The system’ll tear her the fuck apart!”

Chris looked up and screamed, “I fuckin’ know alright! I don’t know what to do though! What can I do?”

Frank looked at him sadly, “Chris, look man…”

“Every night it’s something new with that… that fuckin' monster! Every night she ends up with something new, and I don’t know how to help!” Chris backed up and slid down the wall, “I just… I don’t know how to help her.”

Frank walked over and sat down right next to him, “Chris look, I’m sixteen, right? So, I’m hardly an expert on this helpin' people shit but… I think you’re doin' the best you can. Without you she probably would have tried to kill that fuck a long time ago, she wouldn’t be here without you.” He put his hand on Chris’s shoulder, “You’re doin' the best you can, that’s all you can do. But if you can, try and talk her out of comin' here so much. It’s not good for her.”

Chris looked at him sadly, “I’m trying it’s just… I think she needs it tonight.”

Frank sighed, “Yeah… I mean I like gettin' a little extra cash, but Becca’s my friend too. I don’t wanna see her hookin' out on Mott Street when I come ‘round and know I’m the reason.”

Chris leaned back, “There’s gotta be something we can do. Can you talk to your dad?”

Frank scoffed, “Huh, I don’t know what the fuck he can do but I guess I can give it a shot. He’d probably just send the muscle around, don’t know what that would do.”

Chris sighed, “Probably just make everything worse.”

The door to the back room slammed open and Rebecca was out the back door before it could shut, “Fuck, Becca hold up!” Chris shot up and looked over at Frank, “I’ll keep an eye on her ok? Just… See if you can come up with anything.”

Frank turned and waved over his shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, just go get her, take care of her alright?” Chris was gone by the time he looked back, “And for Christ sake be careful.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Chris had caught up to her she’d already swallowed two blues dry and was just waiting for them to kick in. His first instinct was to try and convince her to cut down, but one look at her face and he knew this wasn’t the time for that. He wasn’t straight edge by any means, he was as familiar with Seth as any of the kids in the neighborhood, but he knew when someone was using for fun and when they were using to feel. Fifteen years on earth and he’d already seen a lot of people using to feel end up dead or worse, some even younger than her. He would have to talk to her sometime, but that time wasn’t now.

“Becca…”

Her eyes snapped to him, “Don’t. I’m not talking about this anymore.”

Chris sighed, “Then we won’t talk about it tonight. But I’m not leaving you alone.” He walked forward and put his hand on her shoulder, “My mom’s at work, you can crash at my place long as you need.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes, before dropping her shoulders and sighing, “Fine.” She turned and started walking back, before muttering aloud, “Better not get any ideas asshole.” He chuckled to himself, it was a very Becca way of saying thank you. He’d take it.

By the time they’d reached the apartment building that they called home the drugs had well and truly kicked in. Barbiturates often reduce anxiety, lower inhibitions and induce a state of euphoria. One side effect however, that Chris only now remembered as he was practically dragging her up the four flights of stairs to his apartment, is severe drowsiness.

“Swear to god, I’m gonna kick Seth’s ass next time I see him.” Chris wasn’t by any means unfit, but having spent the last ten minutes effectively dragging ninety pounds of dead weight up four flights of stairs had left him ineffectually grumbling threats of vengeance at anyone who crossed his mind. When he reached his floor and opened the door to his home Rebecca was for the most part asleep, something that left him equal parts relieved and worried. “I guess…” He started, talking to empty air, “You can take my bed, I’ll take the couch.” Dragging her to his bedroom, he tried placing her gently onto the bed, but lost his grip and ended up unceremoniously dumping her the rest of the way. Within seconds she’d curled up into a ball, and for the first time that night looked content.

Chris smiled to himself and turned to leave. “No…” He turned and looked at her, “Don’t… Don’t go.” He stood for a moment thinking, but he already knew the answer.

“ _Bueno._ ” He sighed to himself, laying down and wrapping his arms around her. She sighed in contentment and was out like a like a second later. He smiled, and for a moment, just a moment, before everything would go wrong and the world would go insane, for a moment they were both happy.

“ _Buenas noches_ Rebecca.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the start of the journey. This is my first time attempting to write a fanfic, and in hindsight maybe writing an entire character history spanning at least 12 years was a bit arrogant to start off with, but the idea took hold and wouldn't let me go.
> 
> I personally love the character of Revy, and love the pairing of her and Rock, so much that I was tempted to scrap the idea of this story to just focus on making stories focusing exclusively on that pairing. But the character of Revy is undoubtedly a complex one, wonderfully so, and so I decided I would be a fool to throw away a chance to write this story, and in doing so bringing a little something more into a criminally ignored fandom on this website.
> 
> As I said before I am new to this, so any constructive criticism is welcome, I can't guarantee any particular speed on replies, but I will be trying to keep a consistent schedule on chapters. Optimistically I would like to say weekly, but realistically most likely fortnightly. Worst comes to worst, monthly.
> 
> I thankyou for reading this far, and hope that you decide to stick around for this with me.
> 
> (P.S I am not a speaker of any form of Spanish, so if I fucked up in any way please tell me, I will appreciate it, and so will any actual Spanish speakers)


	2. This is the Beginning (Of the End)

The only thing that Rebecca could think before her head all but split wide open was yes, it did in fact feel worse the next day. Her cheek had already swollen to an impressive degree, eye well past black and the hinge of her jaw felt like it was halfway to being cracked. She tried to clamp her eyes shut to stem the tears but that only caused more pain, so she had no choice but to let them flow free.

_This fuckin' sucks._ She sat up on the bed, the simple movement making her vision swim. _This really fuckin' sucks._ She stood and tried to walk to the door, stumbling and stepping heavily as she went, “Shit,” she said aloud to herself, “I’m still fucked up.” She reached the door and was powerless to prevent herself falling square into it, slamming the door open and crashing down to the floor on the other side.

Chris’ head snapped to her, and he threw down the half-eaten toast onto his table. “Oh, for fuck sake Becca _cálmese_.” He was at her side in a second, putting her arm over his shoulder and dragging her to the couch, “You don’t need to prove anything, just don’t fuck yourself up anymore today.”

She shifted in his grasp, muttering to herself, “I’ll fuck myself up if I want to.”

“Hey,” he grabbed her by her shoulders and made her look at him, “C’mon, please? For me?”

She was powerless to resist the wounded-puppy look that he was giving her, she sighed dramatically, “Fiiiiine. Just this once though alright?” She shook herself out of his grip and threw herself back into the couch.

He chuckled to himself, “Sure, just this once.”

The next hour went by without much in the way of words being exchanged, Rebecca silently accepting a slice of toast and barely paying attention when Chris switched on an episode of _Miami Vice_. Chris occasionally poking her in the shoulder and her punching him in the leg as hard as she could. Things were simple. Things were peaceful. Chris wished that things could stay this way, that she wouldn’t have to go back across the hall, and inevitably end up either in the hospital or back at Seth’s. Chris wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. Then suddenly, like a light being turned on in a dark room, everything was clear to him. The solution was right in front of his eyes the entire time. But he knew she wasn’t going to like it.

“ _Oye_ , Uhh…” She didn’t look at him, “You know you could… Uhh…” Still not looking, “Uhh… Becca?”

She suddenly snapped her eyes towards him, “For Christ sake Chris would you just say whatever the fuck is on your mind already?” She threw her body back into the couch, “Shit.”

He sighed, “Alright, fine.” He looked at her, “You can stay here if you want.”

Of all the reactions he expected, her bursting out laughing wasn’t one of them. “Haha. Ha. Hahahaha. Are you… Haha… Are you out of your fuckin' mind?”

“I… I just thought if you wanted to get away for a while…”

Rebecca’s laughter stopped abruptly, suddenly she was deadly serious, “What? So he can get drunk, come over here and fuck things up for you as well?” She scoffed, “Not fuckin' happening. I can deal with this shit on my own. I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not…” He stopped, because saying it wasn’t pity would be a lie. He wanted to help her, but he wasn’t going to lie to her. She deserved better than that. “Look I… Please, I just want to help.”

She narrowed her eyes, “I told you, I don’t want your pity. I can handle this myself!”

He slammed his fist on the table, “For how long? How long can you deal with this?” He started to shout, “How long until he goes too far? How long until he doesn’t stop? For Christ sake Becca, I don’t want you to fucking die! That’s not pity, that’s me giving a shit about you!”

Her eyes were wide and she wasn’t moving, he shouldn’t have shouted. “Becca, please…” He placed a hand on her shoulder, “I just want you to be alright.”

Her voice was so soft that he almost didn’t hear it, “Fine.”

“Hmm? _Qué fue eso_?” He smiled slightly, “Come on, Becca what did you say?”

She threw herself back into the couch, “Fuck! I said fine alright? I’ll stay in your stupid place for a while!”

He grinned, “See? Now doesn’t that feel better?”

She was fighting a slight smile off her face, “Fuck you.” Chris laughed.

“If I’m staying here though…” She looked at him seriously, “You better keep your hands to yourself.”

Chris snorted, “Ew. Yeah, don’t worry about that.”

She looked offended, “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean huh?”

“It means you’re thirteen, sorry but I prefer girls at least in high school.”

She crossed her arms, “Fine. You didn’t have to say it like that though.”

 

It was only two hours later that Chris’s mother, Sarah, came home from work. She wasn’t surprised to see Rebecca in her living room, and she was sad to admit to herself that she was even less surprised to see the bruises marking her otherwise lovely face. She didn’t listen to a word of protest as she walked over and wrapped her in her arms as tightly as she could, burying her face in her hair and placing a kiss to her temple. Rebecca didn’t even realize she’d brought her own arms up until she was squeezing back just as hard.

“Mom…” Chris may as well have been invisible, in that moment all she could focus on was the feel of Rebecca in her arms, knowing that she was safe, that her _monster_ of a father couldn’t hurt her here. “ _Mamá_?”

Sarah snapped her head up at him, an apology clearly written on her face. “Sorry Chris, what were you going to say?”

He started shifting from foot to foot, nervous for what even he knew was no reason. “Mom, is… is it ok if Becca stays here for a while?”

Rebecca was out of her arms and stammering before Sarah even processed the question.  “O-only if it’s ok with you! I-I can find some other place to stay, it’s no big-”

Any other words were buried as Sarah once again swept forward and flung her into her arms, “Oh _Mija_ , you can stay for as long as you want, don’t ever think otherwise.”

Rebecca had long since given up on not letting people see her cry. She stood and shook in Sarah’s arms, forgetting all about the people looking at her and just trying to figure out what this feeling was that was tearing her apart. As Sarah’s arms closed tight around her, soon being joined by Chris’s it was suddenly crystal clear.

_Belonging, that’s what this is_ , she thought, _I’ve found a place I belong_.

 

The next few hours were some of the most peaceful that Rebecca had experienced in a long time, Sarah kicking her shoes off and shuffling over to the couch to watch TV with her two favorite kids. Miami Vice gave way to MacGyver, which gave way to Magnum PI. After spending a large portion of the episode laughing at Chris's obvious discomfort at his mother's rather... intense infatuation with Tom Sellick _, (I'm just saying, a man with a mustache like that obviously knows a lot of things. Madre de Dios Mamá, stop!_ _Please!)_ Rebecca found herself shuffling closer and closer towards her, not realizing she was doing it until her head was leaning against Sarah's shoulder. Both stiffened at this, Becca because she wasn't normally one to initiate affection that didn't involve punching, and Sarah because she knew exactly this about her.

"I... I'm sorry..." Becca began to move back but a hand on her shoulder stopped her, looking up slowly she saw only caring in Sarah's eyes.

" _Mija_ , it's alright." Sarah smiled tenderly, "You can lean on me if you want."

Becca swallowed, and slowly, carefully, laid her head back on Sarah's shoulder. A hand on the back of her head made her stiffen, but she quickly calmed down when it started stroking along her scalp. She closed her eyes and almost melted into the other woman as she started scratching, feeling all the tension leak out of her body.

Chris watched this with equal amounts of awe and happiness. For one, he never would have guessed that the thing to tame Rebecca Lee would have been a head scratch, but he couldn't help the feeling of gratefulness that he had for his mother at this moment, knowing that her presence was one of the major things keeping Becca grounded and calm in this god-awful time for her. This was how it had always been though, ever since she'd come over one day when her father got too drunk, and too angry, and too violent. Sarah took her into her home and let her believe everything would be alright. He didn't know, but he wouldn't have been surprised to find out that Becca considered Sarah to be almost like her own mother, her presence a glowing sunbeam in the dark murk that was the rest of Becca's life.

Of course, Sarah had to stop scratching her head eventually, even if both of them could have gladly let it go on forever.

"Sorry _Mija_ , but I need to get some sleep, I'm working again tonight." She extracted her hand from Becca's scalp, and though she was pouting, Becca let it go. Sarah chuckled, "It's alright, I'll be back sometime, and besides, Chris is here, I'm sure you wouldn't mind him taking care of you." She gave a heavily exaggerated wink to Becca, and if there was a sight that Chris never thought he'd ever see in his life, it was the sight of Rebecca blushing brighter than the sun, something which even he was having trouble not doing. Instead, he started pushing his mother to her room, "Oh my god, please leave."

Sarah's melodic laughter was something that never failed to bring a smile to Rebecca's face.

 

* * *

 

They were tracking their way down the snowy streets, Rebecca skipping despite herself, certainly not what one expects to be doing when they are on their way to see the son of the local mob enforcer and his drug dealing hanger-on. But, here they were, two teenagers skipping and giggling their way forward, still feeling the emotional high of knowing Rebecca wasn't going to have to spend another night either in her father's home or on the street. "Yeah," Chris thought to himself, "I think we can be happy right now."

"You know, I did say I'd stop with the pills for a bit, but I'm not just dropping everything." Rebecca tried to scowl at him but couldn't quite keep the fondness from her face, "I mean, I need to live you know."

Chris chuckled to himself, "I'm not saying you can't sit down with me and Frank and chill out, but there's a difference between passing a joint around and snorting a shit ton of Oxy and passing out till the next week."

Rebecca scoffed, "Sounds like you're ruining my fun, but fine, I'll cut back. If that's what you want." Chris smiled and shuffled over to her, crushing her head in between his arm and his chest, something she was not very receptive towards. "Ow, come on what the fuck Chris, fuck off!"

Chris laughed even as she landed a pretty good shot in his ribs, "Aww Becca I knew you cared! You act all tough but you can't fool me."

She stopped struggling but even as her arms hung limply by her side her voice was still strong, muffled as it was by Chris' body, "Fuck you."

 

Frank didn't bother getting up from the couch, he knew Becca and Chris were on their way, and even if he didn't anyone within three blocks would have been able to hear them coming. Instead, he rolled a joint, kicked his feet up on the table, and reclined with a copy of Seventeen, awaiting (Eagerly, though he'd kill before he admitted that to anyone) his best friend and his other, smaller, more violent friend. So, if when the door flung open and Chris waltzed in with Rebecca on his shoulder like she was a sack full of cash and her yelling and slamming her hands on his back while desperately trying to keep the smile out of her tone, well Frank could be forgiven for the blissful smile that graced his face.

" _Oye_ Frankie, got one of those for us?" Chris said as he strutted over, before dumping Becca ignominiously on the couch and collapsing across Frank's lap.

"Yeah," Frank said, still stunned at the boy lying in his lap, "Yeah I've got one for you."

"Well then for fuck sake roll it already! Haven't got all day you know." The grin on Becca's face belied the harsher command that she was giving. No, Frank most certainly couldn't be blamed for the expression he had on his face.

 

A few hours and three joints later, everyone was about as relaxed as they felt they were going to be, age and location considered. At the end of the day they were still a group of teenagers living on Mott Street, there was a limit to how blessed one could feel living in a place like this. Even so, they were not going to let their good mood be broken up by the trash on the sidewalks or the audible gunshots every fifteen minutes. As far as they were concerned, nothing existed outside this room, just the three of them, a collection of shitty magazines, and a black and white television playing a not very high-quality bootleg of Planet of the Apes. Still even with THC being absorbed into her body, Rebecca couldn't help but air her thoughts.

"Hey Frank?" Frank hummed in response, too busy idly scratching Chris' head to pay too much attention, "Do you think your dad would mind if I killed my dad?"

That caught his attention, Chris's too. Frank couldn't help but laugh at the bluntness at which she asked though, "I think my dad would jump at the chance to do it himself, but he can't deal with that sort of problem right now, but you doin' it? I think he would shit himself if you tried somethin' like that, probably yell and scream 'What the fuck were you thinkin'?' and 'Do you have any idea what the fuck you've done?'" Frank hummed in thought, "I think he'd care more about you takin' a risk like that, and so would I actually."

Frank looked over at Rebecca, her expression unreadable, "Look, I know it sucks, I'm not gonna pretend I know what you're going through, ‘cause I don't. But trust me, if you kill him you'll just get fucked over by somethin' else right now, so if you need help with anythin', just come to me alright? Both of you, you hear?" They nodded, Becca more sullenly that Chris, her mood had definitely shifted for the worse, but Frank couldn't help that, she needed to hear it. "Well, good. Now watch the fuckin' movie, he's about to find out he was an ape all along."

Chris perked his head up, "Wait, is that how this movie goes?"

Frank laughed, "Sure, why not?" He looked over at Becca, her eyes glassed over with that same emotionless look he had grown to fear so quickly. He figured he should tell her exactly what he meant before, "Hey, Becca?" She looked over at him, "I didn't say don't kill him. I said don't kill him right now." He watched her eyes widen and he chuckled, "Trust me, just wait. That cocksucker's gonna get what's comin' to him. You just need to be patient."

Her eyes brightened and she couldn't help the bark of laughter that forced its way out of her throat, "Yeah, you got it Frank, I can be patient."

"Jesus Christ," Chris said as he rolled off Frank's lap to get to the table, "After a talk like that I need another hit."

 

It was getting late by the time Chris and Rebecca started stumbling towards Frank's front door, vision pleasantly fuzzy and bodies wonderfully light, before Frank grabbed Chris' arm and pulled him back.

"Hey, you know I wasn't jokin' before."

Chris looked at him confused, "You mean he wasn't an ape the whole time?"

Frank shook his head, right, Chris was high, "No, you dipshit, about the help. If you or her need anythin', and I really do mean _anythin'_ ," He stressed anything with as much force as one would put into squeezing a trigger, which wasn't far from what he meant, "Just call me or my father. You can trust us."

Chris laughed, "Frank come on, I know we can trust you, you don't have to worry man."

Frank grabbed him by the shoulders, "No I do have to worry, got it? I told her to be patient but you know how she is, and he's not even the only thing I'm worried about. Look I just," He squeezed his eyes shut, "I care about you." A pause just too long to be considered normal, "Both of you. So just... Keep it in mind ok?"

Chris smiled, "Yeah, you got it man, thank you." He pulled Frank in for a hug and squeezed, "I mean it man, thank you."

By the time Frank noticed the hug was over, they were both gone. He never noticed how cold it was that night until just then.

 

* * *

 

The next three days went by far too quickly.

Sarah loved Rebecca like she was her own daughter, something which Rebecca and even Sarah herself were confused by, given that Sarah was a self-sacrificing, hard working mother who always made time for others, and Rebecca was, well, Rebecca.

Meals were prepared, nights were spent together, she didn’t even protest when Rebecca insisted that she needed Chris’s company while she slept. She was simply concerned for the little Chinese girls’ health and comfort. And she was happy, happier than she had been in a very long time.

So, it was the way the world worked that any moment of bliss would be snatched from her in the cruelest of ways.

It was the third night of her stay, the last night that she would set foot in this apartment as an innocent civilian, everything was normal. Sarah was cooking and swaying to the beat of an old Beatles song, Chris was grabbing Rebecca’s hands and twirling her in a circle. Rebecca’s usual routine of spouting death threats wasn’t as threatening when she couldn’t keep the grin off her face. She was so happy she wasn’t sure whether she was in a dream or not.

The thing with dreams though, is that they all too often end far too soon.

Her hopes were destroyed when she heard the slamming of a fist on the front door, and judging by the look on Chris and Sarah’s faces, theirs were as well. The voice that bellowed through the wood made her boil in anger and shrink in fear all at once.

“Rebecca? Are you still in there? Open the fuckin' door!” More pounding, he was hitting the door so hard it was shaking on its hinges. “Tell those spics to open the door right fuckin' now!” Chris pushed her behind him, she looked at him pleadingly, begging him not to open the door. He grit his teeth and turned the handle.

To say the man on the other side of the door was a mess was an understatement. Rick Lee’s eyes were so bloodshot it was a marvel that he could see out of them, he was so thin you could count each of his ribs through the tattered wife beater he was wearing. His body looked like it couldn’t decide whether to be horrifically strung out or catastrophically hungover and decided to exist in a state of equilibrium between the two. Any normal person would puke seeing such a husk of a man, and Chris was struggling not to do so.

“Hi R-” his words were cut off as a fist crashed into his nose, flinging him back into the table and onto the floor. Sarah screamed and attempted to help her son, before another fist crashed into her cheek and put her right down next to him.

“Dad!” Rebecca’s shriek filled the air as she leapt forward and clung to his arm, trying as hard as she could to drag him away from the two on the ground. “Dad stop! Please!” An elbow grazed her jaw and a shake of his arm threw her into the hallway.

“You little shit,” he shouted as he planted his foot in her stomach, she retched and curled in on herself, “All I do for you and this is how the fuck you repay me?” Another kick to the stomach, “your worthless tramp of a mother dies and you try and leave too?” _Thud_. “I put food on your table, give you a place to sleep and you run off?” _Thud_. “I come home and you can’t” _Thud_. “Even” _Thud_. “Give me” _Thud_. “A fuckin' beer?”

Her vision was swimming, from tears and pain equally, when she looked up to see something looming in the doorway. Right as she realised what it was, it was already lurching towards her father. _Chris_.

Chris thundered into Rick’s back, sending him crashing into the wall and down onto the ground. He didn’t let the opportunity go to waste, raining blow after blow onto his face, not letting him get a chance to get up and hit her again. After the sixth punch, he turned to Rebecca with fury burning in his eyes, and barked a command that she had never been so happy to obey. “Run!”

She struggled to her feet, breath wheezing past two cracked ribs, and dragged herself down the hallway as fast as her feet could carry her. She tried as carefully as she could with her vision all but useless to make her way safely down the flight of stairs, but on the last flight finally lost her footing. Her breath forced its way out of her lungs as her back impacted a step harshly, rolling rapidly down to the floor. It was nothing short of a miracle that she stayed conscious, even as her head made a sickening sound upon impacting with the wall.

It was a few seconds before she could drag her body off the floor, but before she realised it, she had reached the door to the outside, and without hesitation threw her whole body against it, slamming through and collapsing to the snowy ground below. All she could think was simple, _don’t stop moving_. Eventually though after ten minutes of all but dragging herself along the sidewalk, she suddenly realised that she had no idea where she was going. She was so focused on where not to be, that she gave no thought to where she _should_ be going. Then suddenly one name flashed into her mind: _Frank_. He could help her, and if she asked he could probably even help Chris and Sarah. Him and his father equally would be willing to help.

Thus, with a destination in mind, she began the arduous journey towards Frank’s “Business”.

 

* * *

 

She hadn’t made it very far when her body decided that it’d had enough. Her ribs were making breathing an even more painful task as each minute passed, her knee felt like exploding, and even though she was only thirteen and no longer in school, even she knew it was a bad sign when her vision was filled with stars and her ears hadn’t stopped ringing for the last twenty minutes.

“Shit…” She couldn’t muster much more than a sigh to push the word out, spending all her energy on keeping her body from slamming face first into the concrete. Instead she carefully lowered herself down to sit on the edge of the curb, her knee protesting every inch of the way but knowing that her ribs would kill her if she fell one more time. Once there she spent the next few moments just staring into nothingness, trying hard to process what had happened in just the last half hour and being completely unable to understand how everything had gone from so right to so wrong so quickly.

She lowered her head into her hands and exhaled shakily, “Chris… Sarah…” _God I hope they’re ok._ She couldn’t help the smile that suddenly found its way onto her face as she remembered the last three days, the playful bickering, the comfort, the feeling of _warmth_. Her smile turned bitter though as images of _him_ came into her mind, the insults, the sting of a hand across her cheek, the dull ache of a fist in her stomach. The thought of how he had managed to take something else away from her, something that meant so much to her left her vision turning red. _I’m going to kill him. I swear to god, I’m going to kill him myself._

Crunching of snow caught her ear, she was instantly alert but her body wouldn’t allow her to move. _No, no no no no no no._ The crunching was consistent, not from footsteps. _But who could that be? No one here owns a… Oh god please no._

She looked up in time for the sirens to turn on, the harshness of the red and blue lights almost blinding her. _Shit. Shit!_ The doors opened and closed, and she didn’t need to be able to see him to know that the cop who stepped out had a lecherous grin on his face, she could hear it in his voice.

“Well well well. What do we have here?” He crouched down and looked into her eyes, cold meeting blazing hot. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here? Hmm?” He sniffed the air around her, and ran his hand up her arm. She shuddered under the touch and found the strength to spit one phrase at him.

“F-fuck you.”

He looked shocked for a split second, then his grin grew even wider. Before she could even blink he brought his hand up and viciously struck her across the face. She was powerless to stop her body from impacting into the ground below. She whimpered but didn’t even have the strength to curl in on herself. He shook his hand out and stood.

“Well you know, I’m going to have to bring you in. Lot of addicts around here, lot of whores too. I’m thinking we’ll bring you in and see if you’re either, how’s that sound?” He nudged her with his foot. “Glad you think so. Alright, get in the car.” He crouched down, and his grin was gone, replaced by something darker. “Before I get really mad.”

All Rebecca could think, as she was grabbed off the ground, as her hands were handcuffed behind her, as she was thrown into the backseat as if she was nothing more than a hunk of meat, were two words. Two simple words, with more misery put into them than any thirteen-year-old should ever experience.

_Why me?_


	3. Police Truck

As soon as Becca was safely out of sight Chris went back to furiously pounding on her father. He hit him for every black eye she ever showed up with, every night she spent shaking and pretending she wasn’t, Chris was content to hit him for every single slight that he ever committed against her, and then to keep going. Yet, as he prepared to force his fist into Rick’s face for the umpteenth time, he found something keeping his arm from coming forward. Looking back, he saw Sarah holding his wrist with all her power, trying and failing to keep the tears out of her eyes and her desperation off her face.

“Chris…” She pleaded, “Please, stop.” The next few seconds were very intense for Chris. First, he felt confusion that she would want him to stop, when she spent just as many nights seeing the results of his fatherhood on Becca’s face. Second, frustration that she would stop him from enacting what everyone would agree is exactly what a monster like him would deserve. He tried to shake her off him, desperate to pick up where he left off. Then suddenly, like he was waking from a dream, horror hit him. He had always hated this man, always hoped for someone to teach him a lesson that he would never forget. He always believed that if Rick Lee was struck down in the middle of the city that people would simply step over him and continue with their day. But he never thought he would ever do anything himself, he understood violence, knew that it had its place and some situations was the only solution. But he never resorted to violence himself, and was content to talk his way through problems. Yet, he realised with horror that grew by the second, he allowed something primal to take him over. He beat Rick to within an inch of his life and was prepared to take even that last inch. And he would have liked it.

Stumbling back from the groaning form of Rick, he retreated to the corner and drew his knees to his chest. Shaking, he tried to keep a grip on his stomach, but it wasn’t long until he was on his hands and knees retching up the remains of his breakfast. He felt a comforting hand rubbing circles on his back, and felt like crying.

“Shhh… it’s alright…” Sarah whispered to him, “You’re okay, you didn’t mean it.” She put her arm around his shoulders and lifted him upright. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” She led him past the beaten man still laying on the ground, and while she was not going to let her son take his life, she was certain that he deserved no more than that.

 

  
Chris paced endlessly around the apartment, still trying fruitlessly to come to terms with his brief loss of control, no amount of comforting from Sarah helped.

“ _Esta bien Precioso_.”

Chris's eyes snapped to his mother, "I can't calm down _Mamá_! Did you see what I just did? _Dio_ , I almost killed him!" He looked down at the floor in shame.

Sarah crossed the room and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Almost. Look at me _Precioso_ ," She tilted his chin up and forced him to look her in the eye, "You almost killed him. He would have deserved it, anyone would have kept going. But you didn't, you stopped." She placed a kiss on his forehead, "I'm proud of you."

Chris couldn't hold it in anymore and wrapped his arms around his mother, letting his tears flow freely down his face. He cried, wailed, for everything. His best friends’ terrible life, the horrible place they both grew up in, the anger he still felt at her father. He let it all out, and by the time he was done he almost collapsed.

He wanted to do nothing but lie down on the floor and let the world pass him by, but one face slammed into his mind and left him reeling. Rebecca. He shot up out of his mother's arms and looked at her terrified. "Oh Jesus Christ mom, Becca!"

Her eyes widened as realization hit.

"Mom Becca was really hurt, I was so busy beating the shit out of her dad I didn't notice! I just sent her out there! What the fuck is wrong with me?" She pulled him in tight and gently rubbed circles into his back.

"Shh shh... It's ok Chris, just calm down." She looked at him, "Where would she go? Does she have a safe place to go to?"

Chris didn't even have to think before he knew the answer, "Frank's, she'd go to Frank's."

Ever the mother, Sarah couldn't help but cluck her tongue at his answer, she knew who Frank was, and by extension, she knew who Seth was. She most definitely did not approve of what those two were involved in, but if there was a chance that they could keep Rebecca safe then she was willing to overlook just about anything. "Then go, see if she's there, and if she's not then maybe Frank can help."

She looked at him and pressed another kiss onto his forehead, tightening her hold on him before pulling back, "Go," she looked at the door, "She needs you."

Chris ran to the door and pulled it open, before looking back to her, " _Te Amo, Mam_ _á_."

And then he was gone.

 

* * *

 

Rebecca was no stranger to trouble, she'd been in enough fights and been in enough pain to be able to recognize when she was heading into danger, and right now alarm bell were well and truly ringing. It didn't seem real, the car ride, the walk through the back door into the Station, she wasn't even aware she'd been walking until she was roughly shoved into a holding cell. A completely empty holding cell, which given her current company, set off another alarm. Her feet caught themselves on the ground, and with her hands cuffed behind her back there was nothing to stop her face roughly bouncing off the floor, leaving her lying there on the cold ground with nothing except a dull ache all over her body.

"Well, that sure is something." The cop hadn't stopped talking since the moment he'd grabbed her, something which she was sure he did just to hear himself talk. The questions he asked, namely about how much she charged would normally have made her leap over at him snarling and biting for his throat, but right now just left her with a cold sense of dread. She naturally didn't like cops, hell, no one in this neighborhood did, but she knew how to tell the difference between a 'good' cop and a 'bad' cop. And he was a bad cop, a very, very bad cop.

"Now then, where were we?" He stepped around the room, eyeing her all the while. Finally, he chuckled to himself, "Oh, now I remember." Suddenly he surged forward and planted his foot into her side, hitting her so hard she lifted off the floor. A scream ripped its way out of her throat, and suddenly all her anger returned with a vengeance.

"You fucking cocksucker! Fuck you!" She curled inwards from the pain but her eyes were glued to his, her mouth practically foaming with feral intent. He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her to her knees, before pounding his fist into her stomach, she couldn't help retching, but she had enough control to make sure bile splashed onto his shoes.

"Fuck!" He jumped backwards, face red with fury, darkening even more when she started cackling and spat once more at him, an audacious grin settling on her face.

"Fuck it," she decided, "I'm done taking this shit from everyone. Time I started giving back more."

He lunged at her again, bringing his foot back and driving it right into her jaw. Her head snapped back, and she was amazed that nothing was broken. She slumped weakly back onto the ground, vision hazy and dropping in and out, on the precipice of blacking out.

"Fucking bitch, giving me this shit, I deserve respect," He kicked her again, "You hear me? I deserve respect!" Again, "You don't know what respect is do ya?" Again, "Well then, maybe I'll teach ya." Then a sound that made her mind sharpen into a crystal-clear focus, something that she would hear in her dreams for decades to come, the sharp and piercing sound of a zipper.

"No, no no no no no." She had one shot at this, "Not fucking happening." He started forwards, "Fuck you!" Just as he started to bend towards her she brought both of her legs back, throwing them back towards him with more force than she could ever remember using in her life. Both feet took him right in the face, shattering his nose with an audible crunch and throwing him backwards into the bars of the cell. As she saw him sitting there dazed it felt like something animal came over her, and even though it felt like every inch of her body was on fire and she was about to drop over dead, she found herself shooting to her feet and diving towards him before she could even think about what she was doing. Landing on him, she drove her forehead into his face again, and again, and again, until she was sure that he wasn't going to get up. Reaching blindly around his belt, something which made her gag thinking about what almost was, she finally found purchase on his keys, tearing them off the belt and undoing her cuffs.

She knew this was bad, she'd just beaten the hell out of a cop, in the middle of a police station, it doesn't get much worse than that. She needed help, and the only person who she knew might be able to give it was Frank. So that's where she'd go. She started to step out of the cell when she felt something weak grasping at her ankle, looking down she saw that the cop was starting to come around.

"Fucking... Bitch." He said through a mouthful of blood and, she noted with a hint of pride, at least one tooth. Rather than replying she decided to bring her foot down right onto the middle of his crotch, making sure to grind it for good measure. She figured Frank and his Father might like to know who this guy was, so while he was curled in on himself whimpering she reached down and tore the badge off his chest, before turning around and sprinting through the back door. One good thing to come out of whatever horrifying things he had been planning to do to her was that he elected not to bring her through the front door or through processing, likely to avoid people asking questions about what she was brought in for or... what her condition might have been afterwards. So, there she left him, teeth shattered, definite concussion, badge stolen and pride ruined, and he couldn't do shit about it. At least, that was what she thought.

The snowy streets were like paradise compared to the inside of that cell, and she wasted no time running further and further away from the station. But she knew that she would have to find a payphone, call Frank, or Chris, someone to help her. She was running purely on adrenaline, and while that would keep her going for a while, eventually she knew she was going to crash, and crash hard. She turned the corner and ducked into a booth, dialing the number that she knew from memory, normally she would have used it to get in touch with Seth, but she needed a different sort of help today.

Cradling the receiver in her hand she listened desperately for Frank’s voice, “Come on come on come on…” Suddenly a bored sounding voice penetrated her thoughts,

“Yeah? What?” A pause, Rebecca struggled to talk over the pain in her ribs, "Who the fuck is this?"

She finally managed to push the words out of her throat, each one burning as they came out, "Frank, it's Becca."

"Becca? What the fuck? What's going on?"

She let out a breath of laughter, "Frank... I'm pretty fucked up."

 

* * *

 

Chris barreled through the door with all the grace of a bulldozer, wasting no time on greetings before he started talking, "Frank! Becca's hurt and I don't know where she is! We need to-"

Frank put his hand on Chris' chest to stop him, "Calm down, I just spoke to her on the phone."

Chris' eyes widened and he grabbed Frank by his shoulders, "You did? How is she?" Frank looked away, "Frank, how is she?"

Frank sighed, "She sounds fucked up, that's how she is."

Chris looked down, "Yeah... What happened to her?"

Frank shook his head while he led them outside, "After that shit went down with her dad, she started walkin', was wantin' to get here but a cop grabbed her."

Chris shut his eyes tightly, "Fuck..."

Frank continued with no pause, "He took her back to a cell, beat the shit out of her, and was... aimin' to do more..." Chris looked at him in alarm,

"No," He grabbed Frank by his shirt, "You tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means."

Frank laughed, "I said 'aimin' to', our girl beat the shit out of the cop, in the middle of a police station, and ran out." He chuckled some more, "Tell you, she's got some serious fuckin' balls." He sobered quickly, "Which is why she needs our help."

Chris nodded in realization, "Because she's got a cop after her now, and she's all fucked up." He ran a hand down his face, "So where am I meeting her?"

"I told her to..." Frank looked at him, "You? No no no, _we_  are goin' to go get her." Chris grabbed his arm and squeezed it softly,

"Frank, she was already fucked up before she left, I don't even know how she's feeling right now." He looked at him seriously, "She needs a doctor. You need to talk to your dad about that. Please."

Frank shook his head, "Fuck... Fuck! Fine," He grabbed the hand that was still squeezing his arm, "I'll get someone to help, don't worry." He pulled Chris in for a hug, "She's goin' to the apartment block on Center and Hester, just please, be careful, alright?" He pulled Chris up to look him in the eye, "I mean it, I need you. Both of you."

Chris nodded, "I got you man," He smiled, "I'll get us both back here in one piece, trust me."

He pulled back, "Now go, get the doctor, be useful." He smirked, "I'll be back before you know it!" He started running off in the direction of the apartments.

Frank stood there watching him leave, "Be careful. For the love of fuckin' god be careful."

 

* * *

 

Rebecca closed her eyes as she hung up the receiver, wanting to take a minute to catch her breath. One minute became two, but before she could drift into unconsciousness she snapped to attention, ready to sprint if she needed to. As she opened the door to the booth she idly started to wonder just how many more winds her body could give her -

Before the window she had just been leaning against exploded inwards.

Screaming, she threw herself forwards behind a car parked next to her, before what she quickly realized were bullets started tearing themselves through the windscreen above her.

"You fucking bitch! You think you can do that and get away with it?" Eyes widening, she knew exactly who that was, and, cautioning a quick look out past the car, saw that he looked every bit as irate as he sounded. He stumbled forwards, unloading another four rounds into the car before his gun clicked empty. Swearing, he ejected the magazine and started to load another one, before fumbling and dropping to the ground. It looked like luck was on her side, every moment was clearly pain for him, he couldn't move or reload quickly, and by the look of it, couldn't really aim that well right now either.

"Fuck it," She said to herself, "Now or never." She pushed off the ground and sprinted across the street, ducking right into an alleyway, narrowly avoiding a shot that smashed into the wall next to her.

"Just a few more streets, then I'll be golden." She couldn't really understand how she felt right now, on the one hand she was in pain, she was terrified, she was getting shot at, so she was pretty fucking far from alright. But on the other she couldn't help the feeling of... Exhilaration that she felt, beating the cop, being shot at, it was more alive than she had felt in months, probably even in her whole life. "Jesus Christ. I really am fucked up."

 

If not wanting to die was what was keeping her moving, then wanting to make her die was what was keeping the cop going. He couldn't catch up to her, but he was more than capable of following her, squeezing off shots whenever he could, never managing to hit anything. She feinted left and right to throw him off, and she could see one last turn before she would get to the apartments. As she wound around the corner, it felt like her side exploded. She was thrown into the wall, shaking it off and sprinting into the street before glancing downwards: She'd been hit, a nasty gash in her side. No idea on if it hit anything vital, but she could tell that it was bleeding badly.

She squeezed her hand down on the wound, almost screaming at the pain, and watched with slowly dawning horror as her hand quickly washed over with blood.

"Fuck. Fuck no no no." She picked up the pace, pushing herself past what she thought her limit was, she had to get help fast. Thankfully, for once, luck was on her side.

 

Chris started sprinting as soon as he heard gunshots, he hoped, he prayed, but he knew that there was only one person that those could be aimed at.

"Please Becca, please be ok..." He kept chanting to himself, as if a simple hope would keep anyone alive in this hellhole of a city. The gunshots increased in volume, until each one felt like it was splitting his ears wide open. When he rounded a corner and felt something slam into him, his first instinct was that he'd been shot, eyes widening in horror for a split second before he recognized the girl currently wedged against him, looking up at him with wide eyes and dragging him with all her might back the direction he came from.

"Becca?" He yelled in surprise, still confused as to where they were going, but aware enough to know that she was running for a good reason.

"Chris..." Her voice was small, pained, like saying a full sentence would make her drop dead, looking down, he saw exactly why. A horrified gasp tore its way out of his mouth, his throat constricting and his heart thundering like a jackhammer, she was covered in blood, and obviously bleeding badly. Not wanting to take any chances, and not waiting for her to give him permission, he grabbed her and lifted her off the ground, sprinting with all his might in the direction of Frank's. She needed that doctor, and she needed it now.

"Chris look out!" Only a feint to the left kept his head on his shoulders as a bullet obliterated the wall that he had been running by, suddenly the whole world seemed to be in slow motion, pieces of brick flying past his face, snow spiralling down in the night, a glance over his shoulder showing a cop with an expression of murder on his face, mouth wide in a scream of rage. He ducked into another alley as he fired another shot, feeling the air by his face shoot away and heard the devastating crack in his ear as the bullet passed him by. Seeing the block of apartments ahead of him, he decided to slam his way through the front door rather than passing them by, they needed to lose the cop, otherwise he'd just follow them to Frank's and kill them all. They'd come too far to let that happen, Becca had been through too much for it to end like that.

As the door slammed shut behind them, Chris thought for a second that they might be ok, right before a bullet tore its way through the door and sliced through his calf. Screaming, and in pain like he had never felt before, he stumbled and almost fell to the floor, barely being able to brace against the wall and continue as fast as he could. The only thing stopping him from curling onto the ground and weeping was the knowledge that if he stopped, they were dead. He wasn't going to let that happen, he was going to get Becca out, even if it killed him. Door after door remained locked as he checked each one, either the owners were out or they heard the gunshots, either way, those doors were not opening. Things were looking bad, and they were quickly getting worse, especially once he heard the front door slam open and a shot being fired. The fact that the cop couldn't see them made it worse, he was just shooting at everything, he wasn't just angry, he was fucking insane.

Finally, they found a door that was unlocked, a bathroom, three stalls, a mop, and a window. Putting Rebecca down as gently as he could Chris limped over to the door, twisting the lock as hard as he could and stomping off the door handle for good measure.

He walked back over to Becca and knelt down, taking a second to breathe. "Ok, here's what we need to do." He grabbed her by the hand and made her look at him, "We are going to go out the window, I think we can lose him that way. Can you do that?" She nodded, but as she tried to get up she winced in obvious pain. Walking was one thing, sprinting was another, but lifting herself through that window wasn't even in the same ballpark as those things.

Chris nodded, "Ok, you're going first, I'm gonna lift you through ok?" She shook her head,

"No, I can make it! You should-"

He cut her off, "No! You are going first! You are going to get out that window, you are going to run to Frank's, and you are not going to look back for anything! Got it?" He stared at her until she nodded, "Good."

He lifted her up and began to put her through the window, when he heard a slamming against the door. "Open up, you fuckin' spic fuck! I'm gonna kill you both, you hear me?" The door started to splinter, Becca looked at him in fear, but only saw his expression tighten. Her eyes widened when she realized what was happening,

"Chris, no..." He looked at her and placed a kiss on her forehead,

"Becca, I'm sorry." And pushed her.

The last thing she saw before the window fell out of view was the door exploding inwards. A scream of anguish ripped its way through the night.

 

Chris heard the door break open, turning to see the cop aiming his gun right at him. The first shot took him in his shoulder, spinning him around like some macabre ballet. The second shot took him high in the chest, slamming him backwards into the wall, his body powerless to prevent the heavy slide to the floor. He coughed, and saw a river of red coat his shirt, but strangely, didn't feel any pain. He looked up into the face of the cop, saw the blond hair, the green eyes, the nose that was practically bent sideways and still leaking blood. Suddenly, he found himself chuckling, a horrible, wet sound that made the cop pause and look at him with his eyes wide.

"What's so fuckin' funny?"

Chris smirked at him, pouring every ounce of hatred and honesty that he could into his gaze. "She's going to fuckin' kill you. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."

The cop scoffed, but his eyes had something that wasn't there before. Doubt. "Good," Chris thought to himself, "That's good."

He brought his pistol up to aim at Chris's head, Chris's eyes never leaving his. _Rebecca..._

He saw his finger tighten around the trigger. _Forgive me._

And then...

Darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.


	4. Ain't That a Kick in the Head

Rebecca hit the ground hard, missing the light layer of snow on the sidewalk and thumping down into hard concrete. She wills herself to her feet in time to hear the shots, her heart shatters with each one. Knowing that there isn't anything she can do anymore, she turns and starts running as fast as she can in the direction of Frank's. She doesn't stop crying for even a second.

 

* * *

 

"Come on, come on." Frank was pacing back and forth, feet leaving a trail in the snow behind him. "Where the fuck are you?"

Getting a doctor organised wasn't as much of a hassle as he thought it might be, running inside and telling his father about Becca's father was about all it took. He balked and started yelling when he said she had a cop after her, but the anger was not so much due to anything Becca did, so much as he just hated the police. Frank could empathize.

That was fifteen minutes ago, and while he knew they had a not insignificant distance to cover, his fears are growing with every minute that passes. He's about to sit down in the snow when he sees her, small, much smaller than he's ever seen her, and immediately he knows something went wrong.

"Rebecca!" He starts sprinting towards her, growing more and more concerned with every step he takes towards her, and gets there just in time for her to collapse forward. When he gets on his knees and tries to pick her up he thinks the worst, that she got here just in time to die in front of him, and the blood that she's leaking out onto the snow doesn't do anything to convince him otherwise. That is, until one of his hands squeezes the bullet wound on her side and she curls inwards, screaming all the while.

He puts his hand under her shoulders and lifts her upwards, throwing her arm over his shoulder and not so much leading as dragging her towards the Gym. "Jesus Christ Becca, what the fuck happened to you?" He sees her start to cry silently and thinks it's because of the pain, he's never seen her cry before, he's seen her depressed, frothing at the mouth angry, but never crying. "I'm sorry Becca, it'll be..." His stomach sinks as he realizes something, he turns to her with fear in his eyes, but she won't look at him, can't look at him.

"Becca..." He says slowly, cautiously, like he's afraid of the words, "Where's Chris?"

He gets his answer when she doesn't bother to mute her anymore, sobbing, wailing with every ounce of her body, and if he didn't know that she would die out here in the snow, Frank would have sunk down into ground and broken down alongside her. When he kicks the door open with far more force than necessary Sal only has a second to see the tears running down Frank's face before he gasps in horror at Rebecca.

"Jesus fucking Christ what did they do to you?" He runs over and grabs her off Chris, easily taking her up in his arms and placing her on the table they had waiting, "Nico! Get the fuck in here right now!" He rubs his hand over her forehead, trying as hard as he could to try and comfort her. For a six-foot, 300-pound mob enforcer with a face like a Gorilla and the voice of a chain smoker, he would have done a remarkable job if it were anyone else. But as it were, Rebecca hadn't just been beaten, shot, and almost frozen to death in the snow, she'd had her world destroyed in front of her. No amount of small comforts were going to fix that overnight.

When Nico came in he took one look at her and knew not to put her under, one because they didn't have the time for it, especially with that wound in her side, but he saw the damage to her head and knew a concussion was almost certain. They would have to do this while she was awake, something none of them were looking forward to when he told them so.

He pulled out a flask from his jacket, "Here kid, take..." He didn't have time to finish his sentence before she snatched the flask from his hand and tipped her head back.

She threw the empty flask across the room and collapsed backwards onto the table. "Just fucking do it already!"

He clicked his tongue and nodded, cutting up the side of her shirt and peeling away the ruined fabric, getting a good look at the ghastly wound along the side of her stomach. He reached over and pulled a strip of leather out of his bag, handing it to Rebecca. "Bite." He stated simply, and she obeyed quickly, just in time for him to look her in the eye with remorse spilling out of his expression. "I'm sorry." He said, moments before he took a handful of gauze and pushed it into the wound.

The scream that came out of her was something that Frank never wanted to hear again in his life, and was even more horrified when Nico grabbed his hand and pushed them onto the gauze, instructing him to keep pressure on it. They both looked at Rebecca and saw her eyelids fluttering, something that Nico knew could not happen. "Kid, talk to her, keep her awake."

He leaned over as far as he could while still applying pressure, "Becca, hey Becca," her eyelids were still fluttering, but she was staying awake. "Becca, look at me." She looked at him, tears still streaming down her face, and he knew that his looked the same. "We're gonna get the motherfuckers, you hear me?" Her eyes widened, "We're gonna get them all, so you can't die, not here, not now. You understand?" Her eyes narrowed, took on something dark, but he knew it wasn't aimed at him, there was nothing but conviction in her eyes when she nodded. There was no more crying, no more screaming. Just the dark grunts of someone who accepted the pain, who knew that there was nothing to be done about it. Looking back, perhaps the screaming was better.

 

* * *

 

It was a few hours later when Nico stepped back satisfied that Becca was stable. The wound was ugly, and it would scar, but it wouldn't kill her. All he could do now was give her pills for the pain, and given that she'd finally been allowed to pass out he decided he'd give them to Frank to hold onto. Nico pulled him aside, "Here kid, keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't move too much when she wakes up. Give her two of these," He passed him a bottle of pills, "And keep her off her feet for the next few days. After that, she can move around a bit, but nothing too hard. Wrong move and her sides gonna split the fuck open, and I'd prefer not to come back here for a while." He pulled out his flask and tilted his head back, "I don't like piecing kids back together. Got it?"

Frank nodded, "Yeah, sure man. Thanks."

Nico grunted, "Don't worry about it. Worry about her." He turned away and walked to the exit, grabbing his coat along the way, "And kid?" Frank looked at him, "We're gonna find the cocksucker that did this. Don't worry."

Franks eyes hardened, and he nodded, "Yeah, we're gonna find him."

After Nico stepped out into the street and the room was silent, there was nothing left for Frank to focus on. Listening to the slow breathing of a sleeping Rebecca, something broke in him. A ragged sob tore its way out of his throat, stumbling back until he hit a wall and slowly sliding down to the floor. He wrapped his arms around his legs and cradled his head between them, the room loud with the sound of grief. He didn't remember when he stopped crying, all he knew was that at some point his father came and sat down next to him, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance.

"Shhh... Frank, it's ok." Sal rubs his hand along his back, "Everything's ok, Becca's here, she's safe."

Frank shook his head, another cry coming from him, "No, it's... it's not that. It's... it's Chris."

Sal's hand stilled, "What happened to Chris?"

"He's," Frank couldn't force the words out, a desperate sounding groan leaving him, "He's fuckin' dead."

Sal looked at his son in shock, the gravity of the situation finally hitting him, "Chris? No, no he can't be..." He stood up and paced around the room, grabbing the sides of his head, "I can't... I've known that kid since he was six. And he's..." He covered his mouth with his hand, his expression turning deadly. He looked at Frank, "Was it the cop?"

Frank couldn't speak anymore, he just nodded. Sal started breathing heavily, his vision started turning red, finally, he roared in anger, "MotherFUCKER!"

With a savage cry, he turned and smashed his fist into a filing cabinet, rocking it over and sending it crashing to the ground, a very intimidating dent in the side. He straightened up, unclenching his fist and forcing himself to remain calm. He turned to Frank, who sat wide eyed before him. "You know, I lost my best friend once. I've lost a lot of people over the years, but I'll never forget him." He sat down next to his son again, "We were walking home, just minding our own, when some kid jumped out and put a round in the back of his head, never even saw it coming." He thumped his chest, "Put two in my side as well and ran off. Left me with Dino just... lying there. I'll never forget it."

Frank put his hand on his dad's shoulder, Sal momentarily amused at the shift in position they'd taken, before he asked a question, "So what did you do?"

Sal grunted, "Me? I couldn't do shit, I wanted to, but I was fucked. I was where Becca is right now." He looked over at the sleeping girl, a figure far too small for what happened to her. "Got word from one of my boys that they found the kid, took him to the pier, put cement around his feet and tossed him overboard. You know what I thought about that?" Frank shook his head, his father never talked about this part of the business, but he couldn't find it in himself to be disturbed, "I was disappointed. I wanted to be the one to do it. I wanted to sit him down, make him look me in the eye, and know that it was me who was going to send him to hell. I never got that satisfaction, instead, now every year I go and sit by Dino's grave and drink till I pass out, then go piss in the river they dropped him in. So, you know what I'm gonna do now?"

Frank shook his head, taken back by the sudden viciousness in Sal's expression, "What are you going to do?"

Sal smiled a terrifying smile, all teeth and zero feeling, "I'm gonna find that fuckin' cop. I'm gonna find him, I'm gonna wrap a bow around him, and I'm gonna give him to you and Rebecca. I'm gonna give you that chance I never got, the thing that might've given me peace now. I'm gonna let you kill him."

Frank was shocked, he never thought he'd ever get an offer like this from his father, from anyone. He knew they were going to find the cop, and he knew they were going to kill him, but he thought one of his father's men would do it. He never thought he'd ever take a life. But as he looked at Rebecca passed out on the table, and thought of what Chris's last moments must have been like before they were snatched away from him, he knew the answer. His mouth stretched across his face, his mind occupied with what he was planning to do, "Yeah, alright." He looked at his father, "You find him. We'll kill him."

 

* * *

 

Rebecca passed in and out of consciousness, her vision occasionally focusing on something in that backroom before it was covered up by an inky blackness. She'd see someone sitting next to her occasionally, usually Frank, but a couple times she saw Sal sitting there still as a statue, a look of complete sorrow on his face. He'd look and see her eyes were open, but was never able to say anything before she went under again. During one or two of these periods of her briefly being awake, Frank would put two pills in her mouth and tilt her head back with a mouthful of water, before sitting back down and holding her hand until she passed out again.

It was three days that she finally woke up and stayed awake, her first move to stand almost making her scream as she stretched the stitches on her side. It must have been enough to get Franks attention, given that within a few seconds the door slammed open and she found herself clutched in his arms, the hug putting unwanted pressure on her wound, but she was so glad to see him that she didn't say a word. Besides, she thought, he needs this just as much as I do.

He pulled back, red eyed and blubbering, before looking at her, "You've been out for three days Becca, you scared the shit out of me." He nodded at her, "Do you want to get up?"

She laughed, her voice hoarse from disuse, "I feel like I've been asleep for a thousand years Frank." She grabbed at his arm and squeezed, "Get me out of this fucking bed."

He huffed, but he was smiling, so she could be happy about that, "Alright here we go," He put her arm around his shoulder, "One, two, three!" She couldn't stop the grunt that came from getting to her feet, the feeling of her stitches being stretched something she was still getting used to, but anything was better than lying down again.

"Frank," she started as they walked to the couch, "I wanna go outside."

"Are you sure? It's cold and-"

"Frank. Shut the fuck up and get me outside." She stared at him, eyebrow slightly tilted, he chuckled,

"Aye aye. You asked for it."

Well he wasn't lying, she thought, it's cold as fuck out here. The cold was the shock to the system that she needed, something to prove that this wasn't just another dream, that she was actually still alive. She leant against Frank for support, he made no move to get away, he just squeezed his arm tighter around her.

Suddenly she couldn't help but think of why she was here, and even though she would rather think of anything else at the moment, would be content to never remember ever again, her thoughts couldn't help but go to that look on Chris's face, the moment that he pushed her out the window, the moment he knew he wouldn't be walking away. She was crying before she even realized it, her hand shooting to her mouth to try and keep a ragged sob from escaping. Frank looked at her in concern, he knew what she was thinking about, but he couldn't keep himself from asking, "What's wrong?"

She rounded on him, he knew immediately he'd said the wrong thing, "What's wrong? Chr-Chris is fucking dead Frank! He-He's dead because of me! Because I couldn't fucking get away by myself he's fucking dead! What else could possibly be wrong?!" She punched at his chest, desperate to get some frustration out, it hurt, but he took it, knew that as shitty as he was feeling he couldn't even imagine how she felt. He'd done his crying, he knew that she needed to get hers out as well. The least he could do was be there.

"I just... Why him?" She looked at him absolutely heart broken, "Wh-why him? He was smart, he had a great mom, he had... something! Why me! Why am I still here?" She threw herself into Frank's arms and clung to him desperately, "Why me?"

He didn't say anything, there was nothing that would make her feel better, just things that would either make her feel patronized or feel even guiltier, so he just stood there and squeezed her even harder.

She sniffed, tears still flowing down her face but her sobs stopping, "I think... I think I might have loved him."

Frank nodded, rubbed circles into her back, "Yeah..." He tucked her head between his neck and shoulder, "I think I did too."

Her eyes widened, not saying a word, but not making a move to leave either, after a few minutes of being silent, Frank couldn't bear it anymore, "Becca? Are you... Is anything wrong?"

No, she realized, nothing is wrong, "No... But that actually does explain a few things."

He chuckled, the sound a lot more wet than he thought it would be. Looks like I'm not done with the crying. "Yeah, like you were so fuckin subtle..."

She laughed, "Fuck you." Her mood dropped again, "Looks like that's something we have in common then. We both lost something important to us."

"Yeah..."

She clucked her tongue, "Fuck. I just... I just wish I could have done something."

He pulled her head up, "You still can."

She shook her head in confusion, "Huh? Like what?"

His eyes darkened, "Dad's put the word out, he's got his boys looking for that cop, you had his badge in your pocket. He's gonna find the prick."

Her eyebrows rose, "Yeah? And then what?"

He smiled, all teeth and malice, "Then you and me are gonna talk to him. We're gonna let him know why he's here. Then you and me are gonna kill him."

He expected more surprise from her, some kind of extreme reaction, but all he got was a nod and a small smile, "Good. Can't wait. Something I need to do first though."

Still taken aback, he looked at her, "Yeah? What's that?"

Her expression took on the same darkness that his had, but there was no smile, nothing but a burning malice behind her eyes, "I need to visit home. Can you help me with that?"

He knew what she was talking about, and there was no way he was going to say no. This was a long time coming, and he was going to play a part, he'd been dying to for years.

"Whatever you need. I'm here."


End file.
